An Experiment In Pain
by Tatsie
Summary: Just an experiment using one of Poe's theories... Involves Farfie... and a victim ^.~


Alright, i'm a geek. I admit it ^_^ This is an experiment using something I learned in English class lol. My teacher told us that Poe figured, in order to have a horror story, there must be horror in every part of the story, ie the setting, dialouge, characters etc. I decided i'd try out putting horror in each place with my fav madman, Farfie-chan ^_^. Oh yeah, Robert is such a stupid name but I was bored. He doesn't exist either heh. Enjoy!

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A redheaded figure stood in the doorway, his tall form silhouetted by the harsh florescent lights of the outer hall. Have fun in the lion's den... He spoke with a thick German accent, directly into his victim's mind. The victim, Robert Hannin, a successful businessman with unfortunate dealings in the underworld, had been chosen as Schwarz's newest target. The German's nasal laugh rang through the air as he shoved the man through the door, slammed it shut and then bolted it from the outside.  
  
Such a pretty little dove... Robert turned swiftly in the pitch-blackness, attempting to find the source of the voice. A click sounded and the small flame of a lighter sprung up in the dark. It was brought close to the face of the person holding it, who he assumed was the person who owned the voice as well. He gasped as the warm light illuminated a feral golden eye.  
The flame moved as the man stood and touched it to a few candles, which provided little light, but it was better than the total blackness. He threw the lighter to the side and simply watched the chosen target. Robert's eyes widened, he knew who this other man was... and from what he knew, he did not want to be locked in a room with him. Farfarello. The famed Irish madman, the wildcard in Schwarz's arsenal. It was said that Farfarello went mad when he was just a child and slaughtered his whole family, then blacked out, forgetting it all. He turned his anguish towards which he fingered as the murderer, God.  
It was also said that he had killed many a people with nothing more than his own hands, and they could hardly even identify the victim afterwards. No, he did not want to be here. Farfarello was completely lit by the small candles. A black eye patch covered his left eye, scars criss-crossed his bare, pale arms, only a few scars lined his face however. He wore a sleeveless shirt of blue and black pants that had restraints sewn to them, restricting his movement. Black studded fingerless gloves were on each hand, and a heavy leather collar, no doubt for restraint at times, encircled his neck.   
  
Behind him stood a twisted altar of sorts. A wooden crucifix sat on the ground, surrounded by the candles. Christ's face had been repeatedly slashed by what looked like a knife, and dried blood... real blood, was spattered all over it. You... you're that-- Robert ventured, but Farfarello interrupted him with a dry laugh. It's good that you know me, dove. To accentuate the last word, the Irishman hit a concealed switch in his glove and a long thin, needle-like knife extended from the palm of the glove itself.  
  
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Farfarello grotesquely ran his tongue along the blade, closing his eyes as it cut him and the blood welled in his mouth. Suddenly, he fell to his knees, placing his hands onto the floor as he raised his behind, looking as if he was going to pounce upon his victim. Oh my God. Robert whispered out of sheer terror. The madman's eyes lit with a new fire from within. He growled and lunged forward on top of his target, forcefully knocking the man's head back, into the padded wall with his leather clad fist.  
  
Do not say _that_ name in _my_ presence, dove. He spat, pressing his face into Robert's. Farfarello looked him up and down, and then, taking his knife, began to lazily trace patterns on the man's neck as a child does when bored with their class work. You know... God loves his little doves... He looked into the other man's eyes, a threatening grin on his pallid face. And we don't want him to be happy... In one swipe, Farfarello ran the knife down the man's chest, slashing open his shirt. Now, do we? He cocked his head to the side in an almost endearing way before pushing on his victim's chest. DO we? Robert shook his head quickly; he was scared out of his mind. Even with all of the things he had seen, Farfarello was a new experience. I'm glad we agree... dove.  
  
The assassin propped his head up casually with his hand, looking down at the other man's chest. I never did like doves, you know. Too pure... They'd look much better... Like THIS! He shouted the last word and as he did, pulled his hand back and slashed the chest beneath him, producing a scream from Robert. He was enjoying his game... His own personal game of cat and mouse, of angel and demon. He always liked when the demon won. Straddling Robert's waist, he sat up, crossing his arms over his chest. Stop moving. He said calmly before backhanding the man, effectively quieting him. It's an improvement... I think... we could do better though...  
  
Not wanting another warning' form the insane man, Robert did his best to remain silent as the needle-knife bit into his skin again and again and again. Satisfied with the distorted pattern upon them ant's chest, Farfarello brought the knife to his mouth and slowly licked it, as if... savoring the blood. Just kill me now if you're going to do it!  
Farfarello sighed dramatically. As you wish, dove! In one swift move he slashed the man's throat. This wasn't half the fun he had wanted, and more of the mess than he had counted on. With nothing better to do now, Farfarello stood, threw the knife down and snuffed out the candles. Good night... my precious... dove.  
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*grins* Everyone loves Farfie! Reviews? *wobbly Ren-chan eyes*


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